there is a long dark nightmare to awake from. every day. There are patches of my life that are black holes, I can never enter them again, although I keep trying.

a few black burning spots inside my vision. all these contests for life, all the silly worry charades, carefully gathered and dissolved, loads of sugar into syrup, clinging and concentrated and thick and impossible to scrape away.

all rivers run down and dried, every hurt examined and lost, I want to weep. I wanted to remember you all weekend and weep, in a dark corner, for hours with no solution, at what we had, at who you were, at who we were, who we became, at magic that made me so goddamn content, you were a miracle, and I was terrified, of losing you. and ta daaa, I lost you, once, again and finally. you were gone like a whisper around my skin at 4 am, I love you, and you stole away like a thief as I smiled content, and slept deeper. I haven’t slept for years since. Made me imperfectly determined to never invest my everything in a mere man.

and too many always, asking, demanding, poking, hurting, crowding, intrusive, curious, such endless hateful curious, who cannot even comprehend, never did anything outside their even straight paths and furrows, a thousand years deep, people who walk up and down mountains in a minute and breathe, without gas masks. they dont know any other way, ironic that I do, and it breaks me, every day.

I feel a cloud around my head, so dull and lazy and thick when I try to accept this reality, try to understand why this world drowns a very common sense in such grease and rouge and feathers and fake blood, to cut open the sounds of their rage and love and pain and replace blood with tears, always attacking with safety pins and bandaids. this is life, you dont get out alive, thats the deal.